The Perfect Meal
by StormCity
Summary: All the food in New York city in the twisted reality of Spider-Ham has disappeared, except the edible leaves, and The Daily Beagle blames Spider-Ham for it. Peter Porker, who hates eating anything other than fast food, has to find a new way to kill his hunger. But how can he do that when his favorite restaurant is closed? (Complete!)


_**A/N****: Hello readers! So this is a story which I did not come up with myself. It's an idea of and written by my younger sibling (whom let us call StormCity II, heheh!) who doesn't have an account yet. So all I did was edited it. This may be a first of a collection of one-shots, and even though they aren't written yet, when they are, I'll make a list and put them on my profile. And when it's a part of the series/collection (that is, not written by me alone, but with StormCity II), it will specifically be mentioned in the Author's Note, like this one. So we hope you like it. Here you go. And if you like it, do leave behind your suggestions or feedback. We'll be grateful for that.**_

* * *

It was a special edition copy of the Daily Beagle, with every name on it- Buzzard, Bookworm, Doctor Octopussycat, Crayfin, Baron Waste von Kampf, Ducktor Doom, Eelectro- all of them behind bars, except Raven The Hunter. _All thanks to me, and that Jackal thinks I should be in there too! _Spider-Ham levitated in the mouth-watering aroma that flooded in from his aunt May's kitchen. He was soon knocking on her shoulder, and she squealed in surprise.

"For the Boar's sake Peter," she cried, "Get decent and have a change of dress. You smell like a pig in that costume."

"Isn't that what my name is?" Ham asked her dreamily, all the while his eyes closed, "_Spider-Ham_? And what are you cooking, my dear old lady, huh? I wonder which sauce you're using on the sausages."

"I'm not an old lady, and I haven't been cooking your sausages, I told you that," Aunt May replied, "You know the stocks are disappearing in the stores. There's nothing but cabbage, spinach and lettuce."

Spider-Ham's eyes opened and he fell down hard on the floor, smashing his head first, then his body. He wondered if his head cracked open like an eggshell. "Oh my, _what_? _No hot-dogs_!"

"No," May replied, turning away from him. "I made cabbages, just the way I made your sausages, but just with cabbage. You'll love it, I promise."

"No I don't want to eat leaves!" Ham whined. "Not the way you cook. What am I? A grass hopper?"

"Fine," May said, slamming the gas stove. "You go ahead and make your own meal, then."

Ham sat himself on the rack before her. "But I only know how to boil eggs, that's all."

"Then go ahead and do just that, in your dreams."

nA bright bulb lighted up in his head. "How about my cereals?" he asked.

"They're finished, don't you remember? You threw the last of them in the drain in anger."

Ham sighed. " I guess I'll go to Mary Crane's, then. She'll cook something great for me."

Aunt May raised her finger. "Remember you harshly criticized her cooking last time. She's not even talking to you. Well good luck, you go on and talk her to cooking you your _perfect meal_, while I…don't stay hungry." She thrust her head into the pan and began to bite every inch of the cabbage she had cooked.

* * *

"Porker! Porker? Come here!"

Peter Porker carefully trudged over to J. Jonah Jackal's desk, the Chief Editor of the Daily Beagle, and he stopped before the door because an angry yell from JJJ was imminent. "You know why I'm screaming, Porker?"

"I don't know Mr. Jackal," Peter replied, "but isn't that what you always do?"

JJJ ignored him. "I'm yelling because I've got a terrible headache. Do you know why my head hurts, Porker?" Peter shook his head. "Then listen," JJJ continued. "My head hurts because there's no food anywhere in the city, so my wife can't buy anything but leaves and grass! And when there's leaves and grass she doesn't eat, and when she doesn't eat, she's hungry. It's bad for me, because when she starves and there's nothing to eat, she _eats my brains_! You got that? My brains!"

"I understand Mr. Jackal," Peter said, growing pretty annoyed, "but what is there that _I_ can do?"

"If it hadn't been for that Spider-Menace, my brains would have been in one piece. That pig should be behind bars." He breathed out a puff of smoke from his cigar. "So here's the headlines: _Spider-Ham Robs The City of Its Food Supplies_. I'm telling you Porker, if I don't get any decent picture of the scam by evening I'm going to fire your tails out of here. Now oink off! _Now_!"

* * *

It was a difficult time for Peter. Dressed as his alter ego, there was no trace of food, nor who was behind it, anywhere. _Uncle Frankfurter's hotdogs_, the hotdog restaurant that was always open, was also closed. He remained out on the street the whole day, hungry and tired, breathless in the cold windy air.

When the night neared, he swung home with an empty stomach, an upset stomach and an upset mind.

"Well…well…well, look who we have here." A strange yet familiar voice said from his living room. "I was waiting for a hamburger. Because all the others weren't enough."

Peter switched on the lights to find Raven the Hunter holding Aunt May prisoner. "Leave my aunt alone, Crow!" Ham said, taking out a hedge-clipper from his back pocket. "Or I'll snap both your wings." Then suddenly it dawned on him. "Did you just say all the others weren't enough?"

Raven smiled. "Yes. Your jackal believes you've stolen every food in the town. That's what makes him what he is. A jackal, when I was the only one who did it." Then quickly, Raven darted to the kitchen, letting Aunt May go, picked the trash bin and hurled it towards Ham. "Eat leaves, you greedy pig!"

Spider-Ham stepped to the side to avoid being hit, and lunged at Raven, sending the two of them flying out of the kitchen window. "Aunt May, are you okay?" Ham asked a few seconds later, crawling in, careful to avoid the shattered glass that hung like jagged teeth on the window frame.

"I'm all right," she replied warily.

"You wait here," Spider-Ham said, and walked back to where Raven was lying, dizzy, crows circling around his head. Porker bent down to level his eyes with him and produced his over-seized hammer. The ham's hammer.

"I guess you're gonna ask me why I did what I did," Raven managed to say, ignoring the hammer.

"No, actually I was about to pull a face at you, but now that you mention it, exactly why did you do it?"

Raven smiled. "It's simple. Because of you."

"_What_?"

"Spider, you don't have respect for any of your enemies. You only think you're the best and you're the most perfect. The truth is that you aren't. All you know is to shove stuff into your mouth and make fun of us, because we are bad guys, but guess what? I don't know about the others, but most of us haven't been like this our whole life. Some of us were less fortunate than you were. So I ate up everything. I was hungry, because everyday I spend time running from you. I am nest-rupt. Not a single penny."

A wave of guilt passed through Ham. What Raven had just said was true. He _had _ been very reckless the entire time.

* * *

A day later, after handing Raven over to the cops, Ham asked his aunt May Porker, "How much of the cabbage do we have left?"

"Plenty," she said. "At least ten packets. Where are you going?"

"To Mary Crane's," he said. "To say sorry. I know I cook bad, but I searched the Internet yesterday, learned a recipe for Baked Cabbage, and today I'm going cook her my best."

"I thought you hated cabbage!"

"I did, but not anymore. I've had a change of heart, May. When I come back, I'm going to cook you some too. The _perfect_ meal. Because it's gonna take some time before my favorite hotdog restaurant opens again, and we have to make do with what we have. See ya!"

"Kids nowadays," May said, shaking her head as Ham shut the door behind him, "They think they can learn everything from the Net."

* * *

The circumstances were a bit different when he got back. As he opened the door, the room was brightly lit by a spiral-like halo. It was a portal. As it disappeared, and Ham could focus his eyes again, there was a moveable table with wheels before him, filled to the brim with all the goodies he could ever dream of. But at the top of that was a large, large hotdog.

Ham pinched himself to see if he was dreaming. He wasn't.

He licked his lips, tears flooding his eyes. "_Thank God for pigtails_!"


End file.
